


Reprimand

by BlueRoboKitty



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, And in this case Nadia wants him to rail her for being such a bad bad girl, BDSM Scene, Banter, Bratty Nadia, Co-workers, Consensual, Corporal Punishment, Desk, Doggy Style, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Finger Sucking, Fluffy Ending, James isn’t a dom so much as he’s very good at being whatever you want him to be, Office Sex, Relationship Issues, Rough Sex, Spanking, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 16:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16936719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRoboKitty/pseuds/BlueRoboKitty
Summary: James hasn’t been paying attention to Nadia lately, so she becomes a very, very bad girl. Now he has to teach his little brat that his authority will not be undermined in front of others. But Nadia’s a brat for a good reason, so this is something that probably can only be solved with some good ol’ fashioned corporal punishment.





	Reprimand

**Author's Note:**

> Does my thirst for Rizavi show yet????

Griffin’s eyebrow twitches at the sound of fingers tapping over a smartphone. That’s a bold move of hers. Really bold. He grips the tablet just a tad harder than casual, channeling all his years of strict discipline instilled in him long before he joined the Galaxy Garrison to keep from doing exactly what she wanted: order her to stop.

Even Kinkade and Leifsdottir are wearing matching expressions of surprise. Rizavi is normally not so outwardly defiant.

Nadia Rizavi is the wild card of the MFE squad. Leifsdottir is the battle tactician and usually in the position of the leader’s wing, while Kinkade takes up a sniper position, drawing fire and attacking from behind. Rizavi fills in where she is needed due to her high agility and adaptability, the fastest and most maneuverable of the four, making her one of the most efficient pilots of the Garrison.

And the one team member Griffin has the least control over.

Which really shows today. 

Kinkade comes to Griffin’s rescue when he silently and gently reaches over to lower Rizavi’s phone from her face. She is embarrassing their squad leader. Griffin may not have any actual power over his team, and is merely a decisive head who speaks for them as a whole unit, but he still is owed that amount of respect, at least. “Sorry, Boss, I didn’t catch that. I didn’t realize you had started the briefing yet,” she says in a voice that isn’t in the least bit apologetic, and there is just something _sarcastic_ about the way she places her phone down directly in front of her on the table.

Leifsdottir coughs into her fist, and Griffin shakes from the effort of holding his emotions in. He’s been speaking for a solid five minutes now. She’s so lucky this is just a briefing of the briefing Commander Holt gave him earlier this morning, basic stuff, just a rundown of today’s drill schedule that doesn’t require sitting in a room full of Brass.

Actually, because this is a small MFE briefing is precisely why she is doing this. She’s making a point, and he’s receiving it loud and clear.

He takes a deep breath.

“You really should pay more attention, _Lieutenant,”_ he says, her rank rolling off his tongue to sharp contrast to her familiarity. “I know it’s just basic drills that we’ve done a million times already, but it maintains discipline and keeps us from becoming complacent.”

Those elegant eyebrows of hers rise a bit in surprise, a level-headed response she did not expect, not from his usual short temperament. See, he can be diplomatic. Working with the Altean princess these past several months have been quite valuable in expanding his leadership skills.

“Yes, _sir,”_ she replies like a slap, and puts her phone away, and doesn’t distract any of them for the rest of the briefing.

Oh, boy. The damage control here is gonna be immense.

Thankfully, neither Kinkade nor Leifsdottir ask what’s going on. It’s quite obvious, so naturally they keep as far a distance as possible. This is a couple’s fight, one that has been going on for a while, and only now brought into work. Griffin really needs to talk to her about that, the importance of keeping their relationship outside of the Garrison, but then again, to be fair, when exactly is she supposed to bring it up?

He won’t lie. He’s been a bad boyfriend lately.

That’s what this is.

Twice now, he’s canceled their weekly sessions, countlessly has not returned any of her affections, spent many evenings filling out reports with such meticulous perfection he can’t seem to rein back that he doesn’t go back to their room until long after she has gone to bed. Some nights not even coming back at all and opting to sleep in the office instead. Leaving her with little choice but to express her feelings during the one time of day he can’t ignore her: work.

Just in her passive-aggressive, bratty Rizavi way.

Which continues through morning drill. Every order he issues, she either does the exact opposite or flat-out ignores. Several times, she flies off to do her own thing, and he has little choice but to chase after her to get her back in formation. 

“MFE-Ares squad, quit fooling around!” Iverson barks into the radio. “Griffin, get your people under control!” 

“Yes, sir!” 

It’s better after that. Rizavi falls back in line with another unapologetic, “Sorry, I got a little carried away at the controls,” and the rest of the drills go by without any incident. Iverson is even quite pleased with them when they land for lunch and to recharge the jets. Pleased with them as in he actually does not rip them a new one once they are on the ground standing before him at parade rest. 

“Despite your little hiccup earlier, your performance was satisfactory. Report to the simulators in two hours for team-building scenarios. And Griffin?” 

“Yes, sir.”

”I expect you will have a tighter grip on your team this time around.” 

“Yes, sir!” 

They salute as the commander leaves the hangar. Griffin is the first to drop his arm and immediately turns on Rizavi.

“Lieutenant Rizavi, I need to speak to you in _private.”_

He says it for the rest of the team and the maintenance crew in the MFE hangar to hear. To show he still has control.

Without a word, she follows him to the office that the four MFE officers share. It’s a small room of four desks where stacks of papers and folders tower over the computer screens, chaos no matter how much they try to organize it. He shuts the door. Even the other two won’t come in here without knocking if the door is shut. For good measure, there is a sign that their office is closed for lunch. Nobody in here to bother. Move along.

The click of that door against the frame is a clear sign for the both of them.

He takes a deep breath. Gathers himself. They’ve been building this up since this morning and now the payoff is so close. Just getting others involved was not something he’s been prepared for, and he needs to not be actually angry with her.

He’ll give her whatever she wants. He owes her that much given she’s doing this because of his own negligence to begin with.

“Sit down,” he commands sharply. She does so, in the chair in front of his desk, at attention, back straight and hands on her thighs. “You undermined my authority today,” he continued darkly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I expect better from a member of the MFE squadron, one of the top pilots in the Galaxy Garrison. A lot better. And you really disappointed me. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Her golden eyes lock dead onto his gaze from behind her glasses... and a thick, pink circle of gum blows from her pursed lips before it pops in loud defiance.

Yeah, he thought she’s been too compliant since he shut the door.

He steps forward, leans over her, grabs her face a little roughly with one hand, and shoves his finger between her lips to fish out the gum. She makes a sound in her throat that’s a mix between a gag and a giggle, stubborn to let her gum go. Her soft lips wrap around his finger, teeth scrape against flesh, tongue rubs against him, and he struggles to maintain his composure, to not groan, to not indulge her. She sucks on him with a seductive moan, her eyes closing. Chills shiver from his finger all the way down to the heat pooling in his groin. He’s already straining against his flightsuit, can feel the precum already dripping from the head. God, has he ignored her for that long?

A string of her saliva chases his finger when he pulls out of her mouth with her gum. She gives him a gaze filled with amber desire from beneath her thick lashes. He makes a show of flicking her gum into the trash can. “I think you need a reminder of your place, Lieutenant,” he growls.

She jerks her chin up at him with an infuriating smirk. “And just how you plan on doing that, _Lieutenant?”_ she asks, firing the rank they share right back at his face to remind him, once again, that he actually has no real power over her. “You can’t punish me, you can’t give me paperwork. _You can’t make me do anything._ So... you gonna report me? Go run and tattle on me to Iverson — **EEEEK!”**

She shrieks when he yanks her out of the chair and pulls her, face down, ass up, over his lap. “Stay still,” he snaps, mostly because her struggling against his groin threatens his focus. It’s been so long since he’s felt her, really felt her, really held her. Because of his own idiocy.

The original MFE flightsuit left little to the imagination to begin with, and their new suits even less. The pressurization makes it cling like a second skin, emphasizing the curves of her ass and teasing the shape of her mons between her thighs. The Altean tech woven into the fibers reduces G-forces against the delicate human body and makes the suit virtually indestructible.

But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel the full weight of his hand that strikes her right ass cheek, the fleshy mound quivering from the force of the blow. “Ow, h-hey!” she yelps, indignant, one eye already tearing over.

“Act like a child, and you’ll get treated like a child.”

_Smack!_

She hisses. “You’re not my dad.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to be.”

_Smack!_

She gasps, squirms. “I-I won’t count these.”

“I didn’t tell you to, did I? I’ll finish when I feel like it.”

He smacks her ass again, other hand steady on the small of her back to keep her from moving around too much. He can feel his own erection pressing up into her soft belly. So can she. “P-pervert,” she sneers, breathless.

His initial response is another sharp slap, this time with the flat of his palm. Hard enough for the sound to echo throughout the office. Hard enough for a sob to escape her as her whole body shudders. “Brat,” he snarls back.

He kneads her ass, enjoys the feel of the firm muscle. Someone’s been really keeping up with her squats lately, given how much of a show she makes of doing them during afternoon PT (which is why he has to hit her as hard as he does, she literally won’t feel it otherwise). Then another smack. He alternates between caressing and spanking until she’s a quivering, trembling, sobbing mess on his lap.

“Have you learned your lesson now?” he demands.

She sniffs wetly. “Yes, sir,” she replies, her voice meek and filled with tears.

Crocodile tears. He’s used to her games by now. “Hmm. Somehow, I’m not convinced. A brat like you needs extra attention, I think.”

She doesn’t respond for a long moment, still trying to steady her breathing.

“Nadia?”

Oh, shit, has he been too rough? He really is out of practice. “Nadia, you need to keep talking to me.”

With a strained groan, she lifts herself enough to smirk at him over her shoulder. Her eyes are red and watery. Sweat pours down the side of her cute face. “First you want me to keep quiet, and now you don’t want me to shut up, can’t you make up your mind, Boss?”

His eyebrow twitches, even as relief floods through him. There’s his girl.

His tongue flicks over his bottom lip. “I see you still haven’t learned a damn thing after all that.” He pushes her back down but this time, he slowly turns the dial on her spine to depressurize her suit before slipping it off her. The mark on her ass where his hand made contact again and again has bloomed to an enraged crimson flower, so bright against her dark skin.

She shivers as he caresses the injury. “Boss, _please,”_ she whines.

“What’s that?” He cocks his head with a smirk. “Begging now? That’s a change of tune.” He gives her ass a smack once more, but this time, the swat is light, gentle. Playful, even. But all traces of playfulness vanish as he barks more orders at her. “At the desk. Bend over.”

She does as she’s told like the good girl for once, her suit pooling at her feet, her bare legs shaking and barely able to hold her weight. He holds her steady by her hips as he waits for his own suit to depressurize so he can shrug out of it, letting it join hers on the floor.

“You’re already this hard, Boss?” she snorts, feeling him against her thigh. “How pathetic.”

He shoves her head down, not hitting anything, but enough to force her to bend completely over his desk, papers scattering, her breasts squishing against the mahogany finish.

He’s not actually angry with her, that point must be emphasized.

Her smartassery is not just the role she plays, it’s a critical form of communication that allows him to continue. It shows that she’s still on board. If she goes quiet or, worse, utterly compliant, that would be bad. Like _really bad_. He’s not really trying to break her, nor does he want to.

This whole thing has been, from the very beginning, her idea. This spontaneous session is to make up for the last two he skipped out on due to his inattentiveness and the fact he’s not nearly as good with time management as he claims to be.

He fingers slip into her pussy first, so, so easily, to make sure she’s ready for him. Fuck, she’s so fucking wet already, cunt dripping and greedy. Her slutty moans encourage him as she bucks back into his hand. “Enjoy it while you can,” he whispers dangerously.

Just as her folds start to clench down on him, he removes his fingers, and reaches around to shove them both, slick with herself, into her mouth as he sinks his hard cock deep into her. No condom is needed. With Galra no longer occupying Earth, supplies now restored to the Garrison, she’s back on the Pill, and they’ve been together for almost two years now.

He gasps at how warm she is, unable to believe he’s ignored this for so long, seriously, what has he been thinking? Oh, _fuuuuuuck_ , he’s not going to last like this. Not with the way she feels all around him. Not with the eager way she sucks her own slick off his fingers.

Nadia cries out when James angles himself to come at her upward, hard and rough, hoping to get her there before he came apart. His fingers slide from between her teeth so his hand can completely cover her mouth and keep anyone out in the hall from hearing her. The sharp slaps of his hips and balls bouncing against her reddened, trembling ass and the groans of the desk rocking beneath them are enough tell-tale signs as it is. Her hands are free, to release his own from her mouth if she needs to, but they remain in place on the desk, braced to keep her balance. Tears fall over his fingers.

“Fuck me, fuck me,” he hears her mumble into his palm. “Boss, it’s so good. You’re so good to me.”

He slams into her wildly in a chaotic rhythm, chasing after the way she’s always made him feel, feeling nothing but her body, hearing nothing but her sultry moans, seeing nothing but the delicate arch of her spine curving from her neck down to her quivering ass and her juicy pussy taking in his dick again and again. He breathes in deep a fragrance that is sweet and musky, hot and pure sex.

She’s getting so tight. Squeezing him so good.

“Nadia,” he gasps out. All higher brain functions cease to operate. He barely remembers why they are even here.

She moans his name into his hand over and over and then... then. Her cunt **squeezes** as she comes, the sheer force of her orgasm rocking her hips back against his own. He did that. His fingers brush the furious welt on her ass, and she whimpers as she comes down. He did that, too. It delights him to his instinctual core that he’s the only one capable of making her feel so good and can hurt her just the way she likes, and if that makes him an epically selfish bastard then so be it.

A few more hard pumps is all it takes for him to come spilling after her, hot cum rushing out of his cock to fill her belly, his head filling with white heat. “Oh, oh God, _Nadia!”_ he gasps loudly, riding out his high by pushing himself deeper and deeper into her. It takes him longer than usual to come back down this time, to pull himself back together with a violent shudder. When he pulls out of her, long strings of cum trail out of her pussy and down her thighs.

Nadia hasn’t moved. She just lays there, her upper body sprawled over the desk, her only movement being the steady rise and fall of her back as she breathes. He chuckles under his breath. Is she seriously dozing off like this? That can’t be comfortable.

He reaches to tuck a few strands of dark hair out of her face. “Hey,” he says softly, gently pulling off her glasses and leaving them by the monitor. “Hey, baby, c’mon. You can’t stay like this. Come on.”

She mumbles something unintelligible as he lifts her in his arms. She feels so light and delicate, so opposite of the person she actually is. There is a small room in the office that serves as a kind of rest room. Sometimes long hours at the office make it so that going home for the evening was absolutely pointless, especially during base exercises. And the few nights this past week James opted to sleep here instead of joining Nadia in her room, hence why they are here now, ironically enough. There are soft mattresses in here to sleep on and a bathroom with a tiny shower stall that poor Kinkade can barely fit in, much less the two of them.

But James has no choice but to make it work as he places Nadia on the toilet so she can do her business while he turns the hot water on. Then he manages, somehow, to shoehorn the both of them into the stall. It’s not very comfortable, would be much better if they were actually at home, but they have only about another hour or so before they have to report to the simulators.

She snuggles into him as he gently washes down her body, hisses when he gingerly touches her poor, poor worn-out ass. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have hit you so hard. You even scared me for a moment there.”

She shakes her head and smiles her girlish smile that’s both beautiful and deceptively sweet. “It was amazing. Perfect. You really know how to whack on a girl’s delicate posterier.”

“And I’m sorry I’ve been such a shitty boyfriend these past few weeks. I let my, y’know, _issues_ get the best of me and ignored you in the process.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t so amazing,” she replies with a small laugh. “But I forgive you.”

There’s a pause, no sound but hot water rushing down their bodies as he massages soap into her back, the smell of lavender rising with the steam. “I... I guess I shouldn’t have tried to embarrass you this morning,” she says softly.

He plants a kiss on her head. “I love you, Nadia... but next time we wanna do one these semi-public sessions of ours, I would rather we not get the rest of the Garrison involved, please,” he says. “I get why you did it, and I don’t fault you for it, but we don’t need to be bringing our relationship into work, we both agreed on that.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Commander Iverson’s already brought it up with me a few times.”

Nadia leans back to blink up at him in surprise, even though she can’t lean very far without smacking her head against the stall. “He has?”

“Mhmm. Remember when we got caught in the utility closet?” James boops her nose. “Which was one-hundred percent _your_ fault, by the way.”

She smiles, eyes glazing distant and dreamy over at a delightful memory. “Hmmm, the utility closet. The day I found out all the things you’re capable of in tiny, dark spaces.”

“Ha ha,” he replies back sarcastically. “The point is, we can’t make this a habit, babe. Even if only Ryan and Ina are around. Work is work, everything else exists outside of it.”

“Try telling that to your poor desk.”

“Which you are cleaning, by the way, because this is _also_ your fault.”

Nadia’s jaw drops open. “Wha-!? Y-you... you... **YOU** were the one who wanted to speak to me in private in the first place!”

“Hmmmm...” James rubs his chin thoughtfully, wolfish grin spreading across his face. “Maybe I’ll make you clean it while wearing a little maid outfit. Tiny skirt, stockings...”

“You just said _work is work!”_ she exclaims with a playful punch to his shoulder. Which actually lands kinda hard. Ouch.

She giggles. “Y’know, I will say it was a little funny watching Iverson yell at you like that. Yeah, I definitely enjoyed that very much.” 

He shakes his head, rubbing his shoulder. “You’re such a brat,” he says with an affectionate grin. Then it fades. His hand lowers to rest on her waist. ”We’re getting off track. I seriously messed up, and I have no excuse for it. I’m sorry.” 

He kisses her. Slow and soft. She steps into his kiss, their mouths slotting in that perfect fit that they had discovered many, many kisses ago, but her arms are much too tired to lift up and wrap around his neck and hold him to her. So he pulls her close to him for her, running his hands up her arms and down her shoulders.

“M’sleepy,” she mumbles when they part.

He shuts off the water, wraps her up in a towel, and carries her to a mattress. Once she’s dried off, the towel is exchanged for a thick blanket. “I feel like a burrito,” she remarks. “Or a ravioli.”

“You rest,” he says with a kiss on her head again.

“Is that an _order,_ Boss?”

He grins. “A suggestion. That was pretty intense for the both of us, especially since we haven’t had a session like that in so long. You need to come down properly.”

She sits up, blanket slipping down one slender shoulder. “You do, too!” she protests.

He doesn’t quite meet her gaze. “I... I still have work to do.”

She frowns, eyes narrowing a little. “Jamie...” After all of that, is he seriously still ... ?

Old habits really are hard to break. Nearly impossible in his case. Honestly, James doesn’t understand his desperate drive for perfection, either, why it nags at the back of his head like an itch he hasn’t been able to scratch since middle school.

“I’ll only use my tablet. Will that be okay?”

Because there is no way, just no way, he is able to relax if he’s not doing something to get this backlog of paperwork down at least a little bit.

Understanding this, she nods. “Okay. I can work with that. I just want you next to me again.”

And so he is. He gets himself comfortable on the mattress, working quietly on his tablet as she dozes next to him. It’s not long until the tablet falls out of his hand onto the blankets, and he’s asleep, too, his arms wrapped around her. And because of their little lunchtime nap, they are late reporting to the simulators despite Kinkade calling to wake them up. Iverson yells at the both of them until he nearly passes out from lack of air, and Nadia thinks it’s actually kinda awesome. James doesn’t share that sentiment in the least, but neither is he too worried about it. Being forced to spend the next weekend doing extra drills alone with Nadia is a punishment he absolutely deserves, and one he accepts gladly.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not on tumblr anymore, but if you wanna talk Grizavi with me you can find me at either Twitter or PillowFort, both @ bluerobokitty~


End file.
